Balance is outweighed with energy and matter — stemming from romance itself. I say this with pure observance of love, which presents itself daily.
We are so focused on the question: does he love me? Does he love me not? We bend our backs cooking in the oven and the occasional intricate sex position. All to please.
But it's not the pleasing for love — it's pleasing for the pleasure of a secure future.
7:32pm: I'm laying in your bed with a headache right now too scared to wake you up and ask for Tylenol. I'm also too scared to pull the blanket aside and accidentally jerk you awake. I think go to the bathroom quietly and work it out.
YOU ARE READING
Morning Songs
PoetryMorning songs is a sweet and tragic collection created in a time of unfurling need. A balance between tenderness and the greed of love. Less speaking, and more taking jabs at forcing you to question how much goodness you hold. From syrupy memories...
